Night Visions
by bamftastik
Summary: After the events of Age of Ultron, Wanda and Vision start growing closer, but every relationship has growing pains. Especially when there's a superhero civil war brewing.
1. Chapter 1

She made her way through the darkened halls on slow and silent steps, her nightgown brushing around her ankles. The new facility was vast, a maze of armories and training rooms and sleeping quarters, but she found her way to the kitchen easily enough. It wasn't until Wanda had taken the pitcher from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass that she realized she wasn't alone.

He sat with his back to her, staring out the window. She reached out instinctively, feeling for his mind, but of course he knew that she was there. Still he sat unmoving, stiff and eerily calm, but she caught a fleeting sense of… fascination.

"Drink?"

The Vision turned to regard her with a tilt of the head, a slight twitch of the lips that might have been a smile. "No."

"Right." She approached slowly, sipping at her glass. "And sleep?"

"I do not appear to require it."

"Of course not." She drew even with him. Still he stared up at her, but his face was not so devoid of expression as she had thought. There was a calming quality to his stillness, a softness around the eyes. All it took was someone there to see it. Stepping past, she settled on the couch opposite him and curled her knees beneath her. "So this is what you do? Stare out the window?"

Again, that bemused half-smile. "I am running diagnostics. This body… the potential sensations… I am… well, I suppose I'm cataloguing them. A familiar function. I find it soothing."

"Like meditation."

He inclined his head. "An apt analogy. And a process which your body performs in sleep, in dreams. Yet here you are."

"My dreams are not so good."

"Of course." He turned his gaze back to the window. He would not pry, she knew, would leave her if she only asked. But she found she did not want him to.

"It is just that… when I dreamed, whenever I woke screaming, Pietro would…" She trailed off.

His eyes found hers again. "I am sorry about your brother."

"Are you? You can feel that?"

"I… It is difficult to explain." His smile was sad. "But your sorrow is something I would rather not see."

She shook her head. "All my life he was there, watching over me. I have never been alone. Until now."

"Loneliness is all I have known. Though I must agree that the night is better with company."

Despite herself, she smiled. She was tired suddenly, the sleep that had evaded her coming back in force. Nodding at the couch, she raised her eyes to his. "Would you mind?"

"By all means."

Tucking a pillow beneath her arm, she lay down and curled onto her side. The Vision rose smoothly but he only disappeared long enough to find a blanket and drape it gently over her. Then he returned to his chair.

Her smile was grateful, her eyes already heavy with sleep. "You will stay?"

He inclined his head. "I have nowhere else to be, Miss Maximoff."

"Wanda."

"Wanda…" He seemed to taste the word. "Yes."

Something in his expression made her laugh. But sleep was coming fast, that strange calm washing over her, soothing the dreams away. She let her eyes fall closed, muttering into her pillow. "Thanks, Vihz."


	2. Chapter 2

The compound was stirring. She would be waking soon. Standing, he stared down at her, curled tight in the center of the bed. It was a defensive position, but the creases in her face had smoothed and her brow was free of worry, free of fear. Brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, he smiled. She said that he had helped, simply by being here. It was a pleasant feeling.

With a last wistful look, Vision turned for the door. Was this regret? Strange to think that it could be caused by something so simple as the passing of the hours. Time could hurt, but he hadn't truly understood until now.

Stepping into the hallway, he turned to find Sam Wilson, The Falcon, returning from his morning run. Wilson smiled amicably, but when he noticed Vision's hand on the door, his eyes went wide.

"Good morning, Mr. Wilson."

"Guess it is. That's Maximoff's room, isn't it?"

He inclined his head. "It is."

"That's... new."

"Not entirely. I have enjoyed her company for four nights now."

Before Wilson could reply, a door down the hall opened and Colonel Rhodes strode toward them. "Something going on?"

Wilson grinned. "Just a little walk of shame." When Rhodes failed to comprehend, he jerked his head toward Vision and the door.

"Oh. _Oh_."

Vision looked between them. "Shame? Is that what I should feel?"

"Nah, man." Rhodes gave him a hesitant pat on the arm. "Good for you."

"She says that I help her sleep."

Wilson nodded. "I've got a few tricks for that, too."

"Wanda has suffered terrible nightmares since she was a child. They have been worse since... the events in Sokovia. As I do not require sleep, I have offered to watch over her."

"So you just... watch her sleep?"

He nodded.

Rhodes shared a look with Wilson. "Kinda creepy, but okay."

"Though Mr. Wilson does make an interesting point. Perhaps a release of endorphins would..."

Rhodes raised a forestalling hand. "What he meant was-"

"I am familiar with innuendo, Colonel. I _do_ have access to the internet."

Wilson chuckled. "Is that what she wants?"

"I... am not certain. Last night she... she woke and asked if I would hold her."

"And did you?"

"Of course."

"Nothing else happened?"

"She... kissed me." It had been brief, an impulse born of sleep, one he doubted she might even remember in the morning. But it had not been unpleasant.

"See?" Wilson grinned and elbowed Rhodes. "So how was it?"

"She said that I was... cold. Though I suppose I could increase my body temperature to a level that she will find more appealing."

"Oh yeah, gotta regulate the body temperature. Basic stuff, man. If you ever need any advice, y'know..." Wilson slung an arm around Vision's shoulders and nodded at Rhodes. "I'm just saying, you probably wanna come to me. Not this guy."

"Hey! I do alright. And we're _Avengers_ now. You ever told a girl you're an Avenger?"

They were laughing at him, he knew, but it was not cruel. These were his teammates, his friends. As the Colonel's cheeks darkened, he almost laughed himself. But time, as ever, would not wait. He turned away, making for the kitchen.

Rhodes called after him. "Where are you going?"

"The advice is appreciated, gentlemen, but I have a breakfast to make." Glancing behind him, he smiled. "Ladies _do_ like breakfast, do they not?"

Shaking his head, Wilson smirked and watched him go. "The android's got moves. Didn't see that coming."

" _I_ have moves, too, you know. You know how well that Sokovia story plays?"

"Sure you do, man. Sure you do."


	3. Chapter 3

She was dreaming the dream again. Her home crumbled around her, threatening to bury her once more, but it was more than the walls, more than the modest house that they'd once known. There were familiar streets, familiar buildings toppling all around her, threatening to drag her down even as the city raced toward the sky. They were flying, but she could not feel it. For the machines swarmed everywhere she looked, twisted and horrible, overwhelming the Avengers one by one, pulling them down and down and down.

Cold hands clutched at her ankles, tore at her clothes. When they swarmed over Pietro, she opened her mouth to scream, but even the air had been stolen from her. Too thin. Too high. It would all be over soon.

She found herself standing at the edge of a broken street, the abyss stretching out below her. She knew what she must do. Just a step, such a simple thing. Down and down and down.

But _he_ was there then, pulling her into his arms, lifting her above the grasping hands, above the death, above the dream. His words were soothing, though she did not hear them. Her eyes were fixed behind them, widening with horror at the twisted metal man pursuing them, a straggler that he had not seen. Why couldn't he see? As it closed in, she crossed her arms before her, lashing out blindly, the world twisting away from her as the creature hissed in pain-

Wanda threw herself forward, gasping for air. A moment's panic, but then her surroundings snapped back into focus. She was with the Avengers. She _was_ an Avenger. The thought was still as unfamiliar as the bedroom. But there were some things that didn't feel so strange.

Raising her eyes, she found him cradling his arm. With a curse, she slipped from the bed and knelt beside his chair. The pain she'd dreamed had been real.

"I am fine." Vision shook his head, pulling his arm away.

"I hurt you. I heard it."

"'Surprised' would be a better term."

She pushed his hand away and studied the burn. Already he was knitting the molecules of his suit back together, but she shouldn't have been able to... "I did not think I could hurt you. Bullets pass through you. I have seen it."

"You did not hurt me. But the act of destabilizing my molecules requires a certain degree of concentration." He stared down at her, with a smile that most would find imperceptible. "You might say I had my guard down."

"Is that so?" The were sitting close, she realized, close enough that she could feel the heat as the wound closed itself. She held out a hand, her fingers trailing just above his arm. "May I?"

"Of course."

She locked her eyes to his, willing the flesh to close, fixing her mind on how it had been. He didn't look away but she saw him flinch, his head tilting curiously.

"What?"

"It is a... new sensation." Glancing down, his eyes went wide. "Fascinating. You are not simply manipulating matter, but causing a subtle temporal rift."

"You can see that?"

"As few others can. It is... beautiful."

She pushed herself upward, until they were eye-to-eye.

He hesitated only a moment. "What are you doing?"

"Exploring new sensations." She pressed her lips to his, her hand slipping up to cup his cheek. For a time the dream was forgotten and she could almost believe that he was there with her, but then she felt him stiffen, his hand closing around her wrist.

She shrank back. "I am sorry. I have made you uncomfortable."

"On the contrary..." He stood, pulling her with him. "I quite enjoyed it. A new sensation, as you said." Leaning close, he tilted his head. "One that undoubtedly merits further study."

His lips were on hers then, with a fervor that startled her. His arms slid down to her waist, crushing her against him. When at last he pulled away it was only to dip her backward, cradling her in his arms as he had not so long ago.

Her laugh was breathless. "I did not know you could do _that_."

He smirked down at her. "Well, I _was_ programmed by Tony Stark."


	4. Chapter 4

He found her beyond the walls, walking the fields that surrounded the facility. Wanda sensed his approach, shading her eyes to watch him descend from the sky and alight smoothly on the ground beside her.

"Captain Rogers has asked that we do not leave the compound."

"Nice to see you, too." Pushing up on her toes, she lay a kiss on the Vision's cheek. "But I have spent too much time in a cage. I am sure the Captain will understand."

The space around them was vast, the temperature warm but pleasant, the only sound the breeze that stirred the grass at their feet. He could understand the appeal, especially when she knotted her fingers through his.

Wanda smiled up at him. "Besides, not all of us can fly."

"Actually, all of us _can_. Mr. Wilson. Colonel Rhodes. But not you."

"You are teasing me."

"Perhaps." He tilted his head and looked down at her. "Though I have given the matter some thought. If you were to turn your manipulation of matter to the air around you, channel your energies into a form of propulsion..."

"I could fly." She sounded skeptical.

"I believe so, yes."

"And if I fall?"

"You won't." Turning to face her, he took her hands in his. "Try."

Still her expression was doubtful, but she exhaled and let her eyes fall closed. It came slowly at first, in fits and starts, the energies encircling her luminous and beautiful to his eyes. Her hands tightened on his for balance, her boots floating barely a foot off the ground.

Rising with her, he leaned close, whispering in her ear. "Open your eyes."

She did, one and then the other, staring down in disbelief. As quickly as that the spell was broken and she dropped back to the earth, stumbling against him.

He caught her easily. "A promising first attempt."

"I won't be able to keep up."

"On the contrary..."

He locked his arms around her and burst upward, smiling at her startled gasp. But she was not afraid. She slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest as she watched the ground below them blur. Her hair billowed around her, tickling his chin, filling him with a lightness that had nothing to do with questions of molecular manipulation.

It was with regret that he descended, landing beside the compound's gate. The road stretched away into the woods that shrouded them from the world and it was there that he sensed it, a strange vehicle parked beneath the shadow of the trees. As he watched, a young woman came rushing out of the woods toward it, red faced and breathless.

Pushing Wanda gently behind him, he glided forward. "Miss? Are you in need of assistance?"

"Actually, I am." She stared, waiting until he drew near to raise her camera between them. The flash was momentarily disorienting. She studied the image before looking up at him again. "What are you, some kind of robot?"

"I am a synthetic—"

"One of Stark's? His robots nearly leveled an entire country, you know." Her eyes narrowed. "He admitted it, assured the world that they had all been destroyed. Yet here you are."

"He isn't like them." Wanda came striding up behind him. He could feel her anger. "Do you know what he did? Without him we could not have—"

The stranger snapped another photograph. "You're Wanda Maximoff. Any comment on your ties to Hydra?"

Energy crackled between Wanda's fingers and he wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously cold. "You are a reporter?"

"I have a blog." The woman shrugged. "What about your brother? You were both on Hydra's payroll, weren't you? Funny that you're here now and he isn't."

He lunged before Wanda could move, lifting the woman bodily by the collar of her shirt. Taking the camera from her hands, Vision crushed it in his palm. "Leave this place. _Now_."

Still she was undeterred. Her eyes studied his face, roaming to where Wanda waited behind him. "Oh my god, are you two _together_?" Her shoulders shook with laughter. "Do you actually think that...? Nevermind. No one's going to believe it. But that is _hilarious_."

He dropped her and stepped away, pulling Wanda close. That only made the woman laugh harder.

"The fugitive and the killer robot." Opening the car door, she slipped inside and arched a brow at Wanda. "I mean, really? Oh, honey. But I'd _love_ an interview sometime. Who knows? Maybe you're onto something. Real men are overrated."

" _Go_." Wanda's eyes flared and at last the woman took the hint. She stared after her until she was gone, until the car was lost to sight. But when at last she looked up at him, he could not meet her eyes. "Vihz?"

He made no reply.

"Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what she is talking about." Wanda lay a hand on his arm, hesitating when she felt only stiffness, only cold. For that was all that he could give her. "Vihz, look at me."

"I am sorry." He left her with only a whisper, rising above the trees where she could not follow.


	5. Chapter 5

She had not expected to find him waiting. The room was dark, his face hidden in shadow, but he sat in his accustomed chair beside her bed, silent and unmoving. Wanda had always found his stillness calming, comforting, but despite the witness of her eyes tonight the room felt somehow... empty.

"I did not think you'd come."

Vision turned his head toward her, his eyes shining in the darkness. "I said that I would." His voice, too, was different, carefully controlled. She could sense the anger beneath it, but this wasn't like the sudden flare of rage she'd seen when he lifted the reporter off the ground. That had been for her, she knew. And it had been warm, it had been _something_.

Crossing the room, she bent to lay a kiss on his forehead, but he jerked away, refusing to look at her.

"Sleep."

"This is about what that woman said?"

"She may have been the first, but she will not be the last."

"You think I care what people say?" Wanda crouched before him, cupping a hand against his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes. "All my life I hear things, hear them talk. But if I listened, I would not have—"

"It's not them." He did look at her now, that steely gaze snapping into sudden focus. "It's you."

"Me?"

"You are... unquantifiable. Intriguing, yes, and at odds with everything that I have known, everything that I am. I admit to a certain fascination, but I realize now that my actions were inappropriate."

"They weren't."

"They were."

"Did they _feel_ inappropriate?"

Staring down at his hands, he shook his head. "What would I know of such things? I was not made to feel. No matter how much you might wish it, you cannot make it so. It would be a mistake to delude yourself further."

The words stung. There had been a time, when her abilities first manifested, that she thought she was going mad, when she almost believed the whispers, almost believed that _they_ were the mistake. But Pietro had been there with her. _He_ had never turned away. Unbidden, energy sparked between her fingers, but she dug her nails into the arm of the chair. "I am not _deluded_."

Vision did not flinch. He made a sound that might have been a chuckle, bitter and cut short. "You should sleep."

"And if I wake?"

"I will be here."

"Here. In this chair."

"Yes."

"If I want more? If I need—?"

"How else can I make you understand? Would you have me be cruel, speak of the frailty that I cannot help but see, this fragile network of will and tissue seeking purchase in a world full of danger?" He stretched a hand toward her face, but then lowered it and stared off into the darkness. "I find myself increasingly concerned for your safety and I fear it may compromise my attention in the field, that I will put your well-being before all else."

"That is what you are supposed to do, when you…"

"Care for someone?" His lips pressed thin. "It is the abandonment of reason. You see why this is a problem, that it goes against my—"

"'Programming?'" She knew she should not push, but for the moment his voice had lost the coldness that he was trying so hard to force. Even annoyance, even frustration would be better than that. "And brooding? Is _that_ part of your programming?"

"I am not—" The protest died on his lips and he sank back in the chair, shaking his head. "Apparently so."

"Vizh…"

Leaning forward, he put his hands on her shoulders. The gesture surprised her, gave her a moment's hope, but then she saw the grief in his eyes. "I cannot give you what you want."

"You don't—"

"You are alive _,_ Wanda, vibrant, more so than any creature I have ever known. I am a machine. You deserve... more. A living man."

"There is life." She traced a finger over his temple, trailing her hand down to rest against his chest. "I have _felt_ it. From the beginning."

"Perhaps you did sense... something. I am still working to understand the limits of what I am. But that is not a question I can expect you to answer. I have become... dependent. This is not a burden you should have to bear."

"Maybe I want to." Sitting back on her heels, she folded her arms.

His lips twitched into something almost like a smile. "You wish to lash out. Perhaps I deserve it. Perhaps it would help."

"Don't tempt me."

"That was never my intention." He rose smoothly to his feet, moving so suddenly that it startled her. "But I see you are too agitated for sleep. I will return later."

"And risk _agitating_ the _deluded_ girl?" She stayed where he had left her, glaring up at him from the floor. "Don't bother."

"As you wish."

She saw him incline his head as he turned for the door, but then she was looking at the floor, at the bed, anywhere where he could not see her tears. When finally she risked a glance, he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

"What did you do?"

Vision turned from the window to find that he wasn't alone. "Ms. Romanoff. I didn't hear you come in."

"Really? And here I am not even trying."

"My apologies. I have been... distracted." He turned back to the glass, watching her reflection. They stood in the compound's primary research facility, its windows overlooking the training rooms below. Stark was gone, but he had supervised its construction, ensuring that the new laboratory would be state-of-the-art. At this hour it was deserted, but even so he found the glow of the idle machines soothing, their endless hum nearly enough to drown his thoughts. It was not the room where he had been born, but it was very much like it.

Romanoff strode across the room and leaned against the counter beside him. "So you're not going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Wanda's upset. It's kind of hard to miss. And given the way things have been going, I'm guessing that has something to do with you."

"I did not mean to trouble her."

"Is that what that was? Trouble?"

"It does seem to be an inherent quality of such entanglements."

Romanoff laughed. "That it does."

"Tell me, has there been word from Dr. Banner?"

She stiffened. "You know there hasn't."

He turned to look down at her. "I did not mean to offend. I'm afraid my experience in these matters extends only so far as what I witnessed between you and the doctor. That and what Jarvis could recall of Mr. Stark's… exploits."

"Wow. Guess I should feel bad for you, then. But that doesn't change the fact that when I walked past her room tonight the walls were _quivering_. You know we still don't know the full extent of her abilities."

"Something we have in common."

"Yeah, you're real cute together." Romanoff smirked. "Maybe I'm not the right person to be saying this – trust me when I say I'm not the best example – but there's a certain responsibility that comes with being in a relationship, even a semblance of one. Especially with someone like Wanda..."

"Was it what I sensed between you and Dr. Banner? Responsibility?"

"Yes. At first." She shrugged, looking up to meet his eyes. "It was my call. I played the lifeline. And with stakes like that, I should have expected things to get... confused."

"Does it get better? The confusion?"

She chuckled. "No. Usually it gets worse. Most things do. These missions that Steve and I have been running... they've brought up certain things from my past, things I had forgotten. Confusing is putting it mildly."

"Hm."

"But if there's something you want to talk about..."

"Probing for information, Ms. Romanoff?"

"Just an offer. No strings." She winced at the words, even as she said them. "Thought you might like a friend." Pushing off from the counter, she turned to go.

"Yes." He saw her reflection pause and turned to face her. "Yes. I think I would like that very much. Though I doubt that I am even capable of such a thing."

"Really? _That's_ what this is about?"

He stared down at his hands. "I... enjoy our work, being part of the team. But I am a machine, incapable of true human affection. It has recently come to my attention that to pretend otherwise would be a disservice to those around me."

"So that's it? Flesh and blood for a few months and you're already giving up?"

"I am not—"

"You are." She stepped closer, tilting her head to look up at him. "And I've been there. I've been... hollowed out, until there's nothing left."

"Respectfully, it is not the same."

"Maybe not. But close enough. I was a very bad person for a very long time. Anything else had been stripped away. But that's not the part that matters. We can self-analyze all we want, question what we're capable of, what we deserve... but if there's someone who makes us forget that, someone who can find a way through the walls, you don't waste your time second guessing." Her smile was sad. "It took me a long time to realize that."

"But if it isn't real?"

"Oh, it's real. I've seen you two." She smirked. "I'm a spy, remember? I'm good at reading people. Even you."

He stared down at her, for the moment stunned to silence. There was no lie in her posture, in the rhythm of her heart. She truly believed what she was saying.

"I... thank you."

"Yeah? Then maybe you should go apologize before she brings the building down around us."


	7. Chapter 7

She lay curled on the bed, but sleep had not come. At first it had only stoked her anger. She had pinched shut her eyes, willing the dreams to claim her, even if it meant facing the nightmares again. Fighting, falling, either would be better than the sick feeling in her stomach. She shouldn't _need_ him. If he didn't want to be dependent, then neither would she. But eventually the tears had dried and the rage had quieted. Then she had simply lay, listening to the silence.

When she heard the door open, it was an effort to keep still. He stood unspeaking, a tall, lean shadow outlined in the dim light of the hallway beyond. Of course, he would know she was awake. She should tell him to go away, to leave her, but she couldn't make herself say the words. So she held stubbornly to the lie, feigning sleep, waiting for him to go but hoping he would stay.

"Wanda. Will you come with me?"

She pushed up on an elbow, sweeping the hair from her eyes. He sounded different now... shaken, if such a thing was possible. Without a word she stood and crossed the room, following him out into the compound. Vision remained a silent specter at her side, but she could feel the warmth of him now, the easy grace where before there had been only stiffness and cold.

It was then that she truly felt the chill in the air, the soft carpets of the living quarters giving way to the cold tile of the training facilities. Smoothing her nightgown, she shivered.

"You are cold?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know we were coming so far. I would have worn shoes."

Without hesitation, he bent and scooped her into his arms, cradling her as he had the first time, seemingly so long ago.

"I'm not helpless, you know."

He gave her a wry smile. "Far from it. Shall I put you down?"

"...No."

He carried her past the training rooms and up into the laboratory above. Here she thought he would stop, but he kept going, his eyes fixed ahead, the machines lighting his face with strange and shifting shadows as they passed. She stared up at him, wishing she could read his expression, wanting to reach out, to brush his mind as she had so many times before. It had never felt like an intrusion, but now she was not so sure.

When at last he slowed, they were in a dim hall beyond the laboratory proper, in a small cluster of rooms used for storage. Gently setting her down, he flicked a light switch on the wall.

Wanda gasped. She hadn't known it was still here. "The cradle."

"Yes. The damage was irreparable, but Dr. Cho salvaged what she could. I hear the new prototype is coming along well."

Stepping around, Wanda ran her hands over the cool metal of the box's lid. "I remember..."

"As do I."

She spun to face him. "You should tell them to get rid of it. This is not who you are."

He stepped close, very close, but his eyes strayed past her, his fingers tracing the box's edge as he pressed her back against it. "You misunderstand. What I remember... is you. Yours was the first touch I ever felt. When you reached out for my mind..." He shook his head. "I had not yet opened my eyes, but I saw you."

Laying a hand on his arm, she smiled up at him, but it died on her lips as he stiffened.

"I saw you recoil. I saw your pain. The smallest glimpse, and you saw only horror."

"But you weren't _you_ , not then."

"You saw the core that I was built upon." He leaned closer and she thought for a moment that he might kiss her, but he turned his face away. "You more than anyone should know that this is a terrible idea. And to think that I would let it corrupt you..."

In frustration, she pressed her hands to his chest, but he would not budge. His eyes were still fixed behind her, lost to their anguish.

"You don't _know_ what I saw. You do not know what I've seen since."

"I appreciate what you are trying to—"

"No. You don't." She glared up at him, and when he finally met her eyes her anger seemed to surprise him. "You brood and you doubt and you say that you are protecting me. You think that this choice is yours alone. Does _my_ opinion mean nothing? Do you think that I _need_ your protection?"

"I only meant that I am—"

"Powerful. Insightful. Kind. Born of a miracle of science and of magic. Created to be perfect." She punctuated each word, driving them home, never breaking his gaze. "You think to _corrupt_ me? Do you know the things that I have done? You, who wielded the Thunder God's hammer. They have told me what that means. So maybe it isn't _you_ who is not good enough."

He stared down at her in stunned silence. Then his hand was against her cheek, his flesh warm, his voice soft. "You cannot think that."

"But I do. They were always against us... against me. Because we were different." She shuddered. "I thought that you would understand. But you only push me away."

"I... am sorry." The realization seemed to pain him. But there was no hesitation as he slipped an arm around her waist, the other reaching up to stroke her hair. "For everything."

Still the anger coursed through her, but she breathed deep, letting herself sag against him, muttering against his chest. "You are more than what they made you. I can feel it. So if you cannot believe that, believe _me_."

"I... will try." He cupped her chin, tilting her head he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.

After a long while she pulled away. Knotting her fingers through his, she steered him from the room, leaving the box behind them.

"Where are we going?" He gave her a questioning look, but she only smiled.

"To try."


	8. Chapter 8

Was this what it was to sleep? He would not lose consciousness, of course, would never achieve the depths of R.E.M. cycle. His mind needed no dreams to catalogue and encode the information of the day. But he lay on his back with his eyes closed, studying the loosening tension of his limbs, wondering at the heavy calm spreading through his chest. No, not sleep. But the Vision understood now what it was to be at rest.

Wanda had already slipped beyond the waking world. She lay curled against him, her head pillowed on his chest, each breath stirring warm against his skin. He measured them, counting the silent spaces in between, feeling the beating of her heart where flesh met flesh. A dialogue between physical forms, wordless yet powerful, one more of the many wonders she had shown him.

She had slipped into his mind before they returned to her room, her presence a slight but comforting pressure behind his eyes, not unlike the feeling of her fingers knotted through his. She meant to reassure him, he knew, to look without fear, without turning away. When he stopped to take her in his arms and kiss her again, he felt her flare inside him, the ember glowing, warming them both, swelling until it threatened to engulf him. But then she had pulled away, taking his hand again as she led him on.

"What did you see?" He asked the question with a hesitation that might have been dread. He relished the connection, as new and intriguing as all the rest – as a conversation or a handshake, as the simple pleasure of standing beside his teammates. But this was different, unique... and it only went one way. He had often wondered what it would be like to see into _her_. Even from the first, he had put his new senses to the task, attempting to measure her, to quantify her, to find some understanding, a reason for his fascination. Still it had eluded him, still the feeling had defied description. It wasn't until he paused to study his own perplexity that the word had presented itself.

"Light." She turned to look back at him. "Most people, their minds are a mess. They are full of fear, full of anger, with dark corners where all the bad things that have ever happened to us hide. You are different."

"Perhaps I only need time. I _am_ rather new to this. And it seems I am not without the capacity for anger, for doubt."

She smiled. "Is that all?" They had reached her door. Pushing it aside, she led him inside.

Guilt stirred as he remembered how he had left her here, glaring up at him from the floor as she tried to hide her tears. He wanted to take her in his arms, to apologize again, but she pulled away, stepping back toward the bed. In that moment, she also left his mind and the compounded loss was almost more than he could bear.

Wanda studied him from across the room, as though she could sense his need. Perhaps she was as surprised as he, but then she was pulling her nightgown up and over her head, her smile softening even as a challenge flared behind her eyes.

He knew that he should avert his gaze – he had been well versed in matters of propriety – but found that he could not. The nightgown had not hidden terribly much and he had spent many nights with her body pressed against his, but he found once more that his appraisal had fallen short, that his curiosity had failed to truly capture the sense of _her_ that suffused each gentle curve, each careful step as she made her way back toward him.

She tilted her head to look up at him. "What?"

"I..." Still he was at a loss for words, unable to turn his eyes away.

"It is only fair. I saw _you_." She smirked. "We all did."

"Then I am glad it is you standing here and not Mr. Stark."

Laughing, she lay a hand on his chest, her eyes widening as the molecules of his uniform shifted and began to recede. "That's... convenient."

"I find it to be." He smiled down at her, holding her gaze until his flesh was as bare as her own.

She was in his arms then and he was lifting her to him, carrying her back toward the bed. Her hair spread out around her as he lay her down amongst the pillows. So small she looked, so pale, delicate but fierce, soft but strong, a gift to be at once protected and devoured. The dichotomy awoke an ache that staggered him. For a long moment he could only stare, trailing a wondering finger down her cheek, her neck, her collar bone.

"Are you certain...?"

For answer, she pushed herself up to meet him, stealing the doubts from his tongue, filling his mind with light as her lips parted beneath his. Down she drew him, the warmth of her enveloping him without and within. He knew the capacity of this form, the functions that he had not dared to contemplate, but that had become increasingly difficult to dismiss whenever she was near.

But she was probing deeper, activating synapses that burst brilliant behind his eyes, feeling as he felt, using it to guide her hands and draw out dizzying gasps of new sensation. His lips were moving over her, tracing the lines that his fingers had made, opening deeper, sweeter pathways as she shuddered beneath him. He gave himself over to her then, to a place beyond questions, beyond doubt, bringing all the untouched strength of his form to bear. Had it truly been his own before this moment? Had he truly been anything at all?

His face was buried against her neck, her arms wrapped tight around him, but the swelling sense of vertigo nagged until he glanced up.

Wanda saw his smile. He nodded and she followed his gaze, a laugh bursting from her lips as she saw the bed floating far below them. "Are you doing this?"

"It would seem that you are." Then he was kissing her again, tasting her laughter, chuckling himself as the world spun to place her above him. Still they floated, still her legs wrapped round to pull him close, the air crackling electric as she rose and fell above him.

The memory was a sweet one and the idea that he could lay here replaying it in his mind was a pleasure all its own. But she was stirring beside him now, opening one eye to smile up at him as he swept the hair back from her forehead.

"No more nightmares?"

Her voice was a whisper. "No more nightmares."


	9. Chapter 9

"You know, if you're going to sneak around, you should learn to stagger your arrivals." Natasha kept her eyes on her locker, busying herself with her gear, but Wanda caught a glimpse of a knowing smile.

"What?"

"You were late to training this morning. So was the Vision. It's not exactly hard to figure out."

"So we should hide?"

"No need to be defensive." Natasha chuckled. "Sneaking around can be fun. I'm just trying to help."

Wanda hid a smile. It _was_ fun. In fact, the last time she'd been in this locker room she'd been alone… until Vizh had phased through the shower wall to join her. All it had taken was a thought, reaching out to touch his mind, to let him know that she was alone and thinking of him. He had appeared within moments, his clothing already fading, the water beading on his skin as he resolidified. He had squirted soap into his palms and begun to rub her back, massaging away the aches of the day, his slick and scented hands moving over her, leaving trails of tiny bubbles as they explored, his lips moving down her neck as he pulled her back against him.

"Hey. Maximoff."

Wanda found herself staring toward the empty shower. Natasha stood beside her, following her gaze.

"Do I even want to know?" She patted Wanda on the back and headed for the door. "You two are cute together."

Alone now, Wanda let herself grin. Guilt stirred, as it always did, but it didn't sting as much as it once had. She no longer kept an eye over her shoulder, waiting for someone to come and take it all away. Not all the time, anyway. She knew better than that. But maybe, for now, she was allowed to be happy.

Natasha _was_ gone. She could reach out to Vision now, tell him that the coast was clear, but she was beginning to feel greedy. For all the times the others might have caught them, there were at least two more where they didn't. To him, everything was a new sensation and Wanda had vowed that they would try all of them.

Shutting her locker, she stepped out into the compound. Her favorite nights were the nights he took her flying. She'd been getting better at it. Even Vision was impressed. They flew together now, exploring the woods beyond the facility, finding hidden places where the roads didn't go. Sometimes they simply flew up, climbing higher and higher, embracing where the only witness was the moon.

Back in the living quarters, she passed the couch where they had spent many nights watching movies together. Most were as new to her as they were to him and she had to admit that his curiosity was infectious. Other times, they simply talked, her laying with her head against him, neither daring to move even though the screen had long gone dark.

Their last discussion had been interesting. It had turned to his ability to manipulate his body's temperature. Vizh had playfully made his fingers cold, teasing her through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Then he was warm, almost warmer than she could stand, his hands moving over her. Wanda had slipped into his mind, probing hidden pathways, the secret corners of his consciousness that were growing more and more familiar. While he touched her without, she touched him within, his gasps of pleasure mingling with hers.

"Hey, Wanda."

She whirled, her cheeks flushing. Wilson and Rhodes had come around the corner behind her.

Sam smiled. "You know where Vision is?"

"No, I… I was just working out. With Natasha."

"Oh, yeah?"

Rhodes gave him a warning look. "Don't."

"I just thought, you know… you and the android have been looking pretty tight."

"What are you, in junior high?" Shaking his head, Rhodes shooed Wilson back down the hallway. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Don't listen to him. You just… keep doin' what you're doin'." He looked for the moment perplexed, then turned and followed Wilson.

She had to laugh. Wanda turned for her room, wondering again at the feeling. It had been a long time since she had had anything to laugh about. It felt better than she remembered.

It was quiet here, the hallway dark. She stopped, listening as she glanced behind her. Rhodes and Wilson were gone. She was alone. Slowly, she lay a hand on the doorknob.

He burst from the floor, a spectral apparition rising up behind her and pulling her into his arms. Wanda gasped, the laughter returning as Vision resolidified and spun her around. She punched him playfully, but he was kissing her then, her hands flailing feebly against his chest.

Eventually, she pulled away. "Don't _do_ that!"

"My apologies." He inclined his head, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

Wanda blinked in disbelief.

"Flowers _are_ a traditional element of courtship. Please." He pushed them into her hands.

She arched a brow. "You knew you would need to apologize?"

"Actually, my intention was to ask you on a date."

"A date."

"I have enjoyed our… ah." He trailed off with a thin-lipped smile, too proper to say it. "But I feel I would like to take you on a _real_ date… out there. You deserve as much."

"Out there people will see."

His shoulders slumped, almost imperceptibly. "I see. I understand if you do not wish to be seen with—"

Wanda stepped closer, smiling up at him. "I mean they know who we are now. We are kind of famous. They will look and I say let them."

"Even though…" He gestured to his face, his eyes searching hers.

She lay a hand against his cheek. "They will see what I see. I would be _happy_ to go out with you."

He smiled. "Then it is a date?"

For answer, she kissed him again and, pushing open the door, pulled him into her room.


	10. Chapter 10

All around them, the night was alive with the sounds of the city. Crowds of evening revelers hurried past on their way to dinner, or perhaps to the theatre. Passing cars blared snatches of music, honking to each other as they wove along the crowded streets. Everywhere there was light and color, sound and motion, the irrepressible energy of a people determined to keep moving forward. After the relative quiet of their secluded facility, it threatened to overwhelm the senses, but the Vision had never seen anything so magnificent. Well, almost never...

He smiled down at Wanda as they made their way through the crowd, enjoying the feeling of her arm linked through his. She had dressed for the occasion in a plunging red dress that left her shoulders bare and swirled around her knees as they walked, bangles tinkling at her wrists. Beside her, his tuxedo was perhaps too traditional. She had laughed when she opened her door to find him waiting, but he had seen the way that her eyes swept over him, the grin that she had been unable to suppress.

Now her head rested against his arm. He leaned closer, whispering into her hair. "Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?"

She laughed. "Like three times, Vizh."

"Well, it _is_ a lovely dress."

Stepping away, she twirled for his benefit. When he pulled her back to him, she smiled and trailed a finger down his cheek. "What can I say? Red is my color."

He laughed with her, but his eyes strayed to the crowd around them. He had seen the way they stared, the way they quickly averted their eyes when their gaze lingered too long. He didn't know which was more unsettling.

Ahead of them, a child walked with his mother, tugging at her hand as he turned and gaped back at them. Vision tried a smile, but at that moment the mother glanced behind her and scowled, dragging the boy hurriedly away.

He sighed. He had expected as much, they both had, but the looks weren't the worst of it.

Wanda was watching him, following his gaze. "Maybe we should have waited."

"Mr. Stark's announcement was inconveniently timed..." Shaking his head, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "But that does not mean we should hide. Not tonight."

Just that afternoon, Congress had announced the passage of the Super-Human Registration Act. Stark had spoken at the press conference. They had all heard the increasingly heated debates between him and Captain Rogers, so there had been no doubt how he would fall on the issue. The rest of the team seemed less certain, though the act's rapidly approaching effective date would soon bring the matter to a head.

A majority of the public were in support of it. Understandable, particularly in a city that had been nearly devastated by a battle between enhanced beings. All around them in the crowd he could feel it – not necessarily hostility, but a sense of a people emboldened, a people who finally saw the potential for change, for control, within their grasp.

Looking down at Wanda, he forced a smile. "I am enjoying being 'normal' while we can. I fear things may soon become... complicated."

She smirked at that, glancing at a pair of teenagers who were grinning in their direction. One of them snapped a photo.

"Why would we want to be normal?"

She had spent her life in fear, had told him of the persecution, the experiments. 'Normal,' for them, would always be out of reach. Yet tonight Wanda looked much like any other woman, at least to a stranger's eyes. When men stared, it wasn't their suspicion that made Vision clench his fists. She was beautiful; they saw it as clearly as he. But when they saw her hand in his, their eyes would darken. It was not so long ago that they had watched machines in the shape of men destroy her homeland, since the news channels had begun their endless analysis of the dangers of artificial intelligence. Here, she could be a woman, but he would always be something else.

They stopped at a street crossing and he pulled her close as the crowd pressed in. Snatches of conversation drifted toward them.

"...That act's the smartest thing those assholes in Washington have done in a long time."

Another man spoke up, answering the first. "It's not enough. You saw what the Hulk did? I say lock 'em _all_ up."

Vision felt Wanda stiffen against him and he turned his eyes away, but the man had seen him watching.

He smirked. "What? You heard me."

His friend elbowed him. "Those are _Avengers_."

"Don't remember either of them showing up when _we_ were under attack." He squinted. "She's the new one. The weird one. They say she reads minds or something." His eyes raked over Vision before returning to Wanda. "Gotta be something wrong with a chick who'll fuck a robot."

Vision took a step forward, pushing Wanda behind him. The crowd had realized what was happening and backed away to give them space. No one seemed interested in crossing the street anymore.

He could feel her behind him, gripping his hand tightly. "Vizh, let's go."

"So where were you?" The man took a step toward them. "My brother was a first responder. That hole opened in the sky, he was _there_. Where were you?"

Vision held up a warning hand, keeping his voice steady. "We mean you no harm."

"Yeah? Seems to me if you're around, harm's pretty inevitable." Some in the crowd muttered their agreement, urging him on. "Those... those _aliens_ came for the Avengers. We were just in the way."

"I lost my sister," someone called out. Another had lost a father, someone in the back a child.

"We had nothing to do with that!" Wanda lunged from behind him, glaring at any who dared meet her eyes.

"Uh huh. And how safe are we when there's a girl out there who can just decide to go poking around in our heads?" The man tapped his temple, looking to Vision. "Or whatever _that_ can do..."

The crowd seemed to press forward, the murmuring growing angrier. Wanda grabbed Vision's arm, steadying herself, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I think I can hold them... make them stop..." She stretched out a hand, light dancing between her fingertips.

"What're you doing?" The man's face purpled.

Vision lay a hand on his chest. "Sir, you need to remain calm." But others were shouting now.

"Outta my head, you psychic bitch!"

The man lunged, knocking Wanda to the ground, but Vision had him by the arm. He jerked it upward, bending it behind him until it cracked. The man went limp, screaming.

Everywhere he looked, faces stared at him in mute horror. He had moved without thinking, neutralizing the threat by the most efficient means possible. The man with the broken arm was shouting to anyone who would listen, calling for the authorities. But that would only make matters worse.

At least the crowd had moved back, leaving Wanda on the ground where she had fallen. Vision scooped her into his arms, searching her face to make certain she was unharmed. The he turned back to the man.

"I am sorry." Cradling Wanda to his chest he took to the air, escaping into the darkness of the open sky.


	11. Chapter 11

"What happened?"

Rogers hid his anger well. Wanda studied him as Vision recounted the tale, wincing as Romanoff dabbed at a cut on her elbow. She hadn't known Steve long – and he said that he understood, that it was just a mistake – but disappointing him was more unsettling than she would have thought. On top of everything else, they now had to deal with stories of Avengers attacking citizens in the streets. So much for their "normal" date.

Despite the scrape, Wanda wasn't hurt, not really, but Vision was taking it hard. He had barely spoken on their flight back to the base, and then only to ask if she was okay. She tried to reassure him, but the relief in his eyes lasted only a moment before he turned his gaze back to the horizon. Wanda hadn't known what else to do. She had reached into his mind, as she had so many times before. He was seeing it again, replaying it over and over – the fear on the faces of the crowd, the snap of the man's bone breaking. As she watched, the image disappeared, replaced by a sudden flash of anger as he remembered the way that they had knocked her to the ground. Then his mind was empty, showing her only a reflection of the night sky stretching ahead. Vision had shut her out.

She watched him now, sitting stiffly in his chair. Catching his eye, she tried a smile, but he turned his face away.

With a sigh, Rogers leaned forward. "Word's going to get out. Stark's going to use this."

Natasha arched a brow. "We're talking about him like he's the enemy now?"

"He's made his position pretty clear. Maybe thinks he's atoning for what happened with Ultron, and maybe he should. But this affects all of us." He looked to Vision, still staring down at the floor, still lost to his thoughts. Then he turned to Wanda and Natasha. "Will you give us a minute?"

Wanda had no intention of leaving Vision's side, not with him like this, but Romanoff had known Steve longer, knew that tone in his voice. Standing, she offered Wanda a hand. "Come on."

She stood reluctantly, looking to Vision. When at last he met her eyes, his expression was resigned. "Please, Wanda. I would speak with Captain Rogers alone."

Romanoff led her to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she did her best to keep her tone light. "Want a beer? You look like you could use one."

Wanda shook her head. "I would rather be alone." She turned to leave, but Romanoff called after her.

"Just don't leave the compound." Her smile was sympathetic. "We're not on lockdown just yet, but..." She shrugged.

So she was a captive again. The urge to flee overwhelmed her, but where would she go? It was hard to believe, but this place had become... home.

But she was not in a cell, not yet. Natasha had only said not to leave the compound. Slipping through the nearest door and out into the night, Wanda peered up at the clouds. Then she spread her arms, lifting herself up into the sky. Just like _he_ had taught her. But he had told her to go.

They had come up to the roof before. Just over there they had watched the sunrise in each other's arms, had done more than that beneath the light of the moon. Turning away, Wanda stepped to the edge and stared out into the darkness.

Behind her, someone coughed. Wilson was sitting on a nearby ledge, a beer resting on his knee. He raised the bottle in her direction. "Hey."

"Hey." Wanda came to stand beside him.

"Thought I was the only one who came up here." He smirked. "But I'm guessing you and Vizh are making time wherever you can, huh?"

"Not tonight. Tonight he would rather be with Rogers."

"Steve's got a lot on his plate right now, but he'll come up with something." There were more beers waiting beside him and he offered one to her. "I heard what happened."

This time she accepted and sat down beside him. Sam clinked his bottle against hers.

"He didn't mean it."

"From what I heard, it sounds like the guy deserved it." He gave her a thin-lipped smile, his eyes searching her face. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I just wish I knew what happens now..."

"Me too." He sighed. "Might be Steve'll bench him, keep him off TV for a while. We don't need to lose anyone else."

Wanda reached out with her mind, searching the compound. "Rhodes."

Sam took another drink. "Had a meeting with Stark and didn't come back."

"Do you think they... took him?"

"Nah. Don't think we're there yet. And I knew what he was thinkin'. Don't know why I'm surprised. Stark makes a play and he backs it."

"Like you do for Rogers."

He chuckled. "We had that in common. But I ain't buying what they're selling. Not like this. Things keep going this way and it won't be long before we're fighting each other."

Wanda took another sip. "But you don't have to." She conjured a thin stream of light, making it dance between her fingers. "The wings aren't a part of you. You can just—"

"Hang it up?" His laugh was bitter. "Might look like that to you, but it's not that easy."

"Because of Rogers?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. I've been there – fighting, following orders. This was supposed to be something different, something... unique. We register, we're all on the payroll. We'll be Washington's personal strike squad. You heard what happened with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

She nodded. "But if things get bad... if you _have_ to, you can hide." She made a fist, sending the energy scattering in fading red tendrils. "It is not so easy for people like me."

"Or your boyfriend. He does kind of stand out." Sam rocked against her playfully, but then his expression grew serious. "So maybe I'm fighting for you. This country doesn't have the best track record with people who are different."

Wanda finished her drink, offering him a grateful smile before setting the bottle aside. "Then thank you."

"Super-hero, remember? It's what I do." He uncapped another bottle. "But _your_ hero's downstairs. Go check on him. I know you want to."

She shook her head. "He told me to leave. It's like he doesn't even—"

"Care?" Sam laughed. "A guy breaks someone's arm, he _definitely_ cares. Probably just needed a little time to get his head straight. He might be new to all this, but I gotta say, he's got the brooding thing down."

Wanda smiled to herself. "Yes... he does."

Sam rolled his eyes. "And you ladies just love that stuff, huh? I might have to give it a try."

Pushing to her feet, she shook her head. "You are perfect, Sam, just as you are."

He raised his bottle in salute. "Glad somebody around here's noticed." He grinned. "Now go cheer your man up before those tears start to rust."


	12. Chapter 12

"Wanda."

She looked up from her book, setting it beside her on the bed when she saw him standing in the doorway. Vision had thought to find her sleeping, had hoped that she would have been able to rest. Still she wore her dress, her feet bare and curled beneath her, her hair falling loose about her shoulders. It was late, but she had waited for him. He was glad. But his relief was tinged with guilt.

Pushing up on her knees, she opened her arms. He went to her, burying his face against her shoulder as she pulled him close. For a time she simply held him, for a few fleeting moments all the rest seemed to fall away.

Eventually, she pulled back, her eyes searching his face, asking a wordless question. He took her arm and turned it gently, examining the scrape on her elbow. It did not appear to be severe, but the memory of how she had received it brought the anger surging back. He turned his face away.

"I am sorry."

"I have had worse." She reached up to cup his cheek. "Where were you?"

His conversation with Captain Rogers had gone on longer than expected. By all accounts, the man was a brilliant tactician, but even he could not see what needed to be done. It was a good leader who cared about his people, who sought to protect them, but Rogers hadn't been there. He didn't know. Nor did he know about the phone call that Vision had made after leaving him.

"I needed time to think. What happened… you should not have seen that."

"People?" She scowled. "I have seen _people_. I know their fear." Looking up at him, her expression softened. "I may not have the density of a brick wall, but I am not so delicate as you think."

"That, I know." He kissed her forehead. "But I wish you had not seen me, not like that."

"You _defended_ me. I am not going to complain. In fact, it was—"

"Assault. The man had legitimate concerns. I should have been able to defuse the situation. Had we only been able to engage in reasonable—"

She scoffed. "There _was_ no reason. I saw it. I _felt_ it. There was only anger, only fear."

"Maybe they had the right of it. Maybe I am no more than the monster I was created to be." He stepped away, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"You think I should be afraid of you? Because of _that_? I have seen worse. I have _done_ worse." She shook her head. "If you had not been there, maybe I could have held them, maybe not. But when you did what you did… I was glad. No one has stood up for me like that, not since…" There were tears welling behind her eyes.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek, smoothing away the memory. It was never his intention to push her away. He had told himself he would not do this, not tonight, not with tomorrow looming so close.

His hand moved from her face to her hair, his fingers lingering. They trailed down to her shoulder, tracing the thin strap of her dress before brushing it aside. She tilted her chin to look up at him, her wide eyes studying his face, a smile tugging at her lips. Slowly he bared her other shoulder, holding her gaze as the dress slid to the ground.

Wanda lay a hand against his chest, jumping in surprise as the molecules of his clothing suddenly blazed and disappeared. He kissed her then, tasting her laughter, slipping a hand behind her as he lay her back on the bed.

He stared down at her, studying the details of her face – the curious tilt of her head, the way her eyes seemed to drink him in – committing them to memory. One hand trailed down her side, exploring the softness of her flesh, brushing along her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him. She gasped, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

He would remember this – her warmth, her touch, the very real ache in his heart. He would remember her eyes, the way they had looked at him and seen a man. No matter what happened tomorrow, he would remember.

Wanda sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. Her lip trembled, but the smile was gone now, replaced by gaping disbelief. She pushed her hands against his chest.

" _You're going to turn yourself in?_ " She stared up at him horror, reading his thoughts, but when he tried to pull away, she held him fast. "You…"

With a sigh, he disentangled himself and came to sit beside her. "I am not going to the authorities. I am merely seeking assistance… from Mr. Stark."

"Screw Tony Stark." Her voice was flat, disbelief giving way to betrayal as she sat up and pulled the sheet to her chest. "You know what he did."

"He is my creator, the only one who remains."

"So?"

He took her hand in his. "Wanda, I still do not fully understand what I _am_. These feelings… I cannot be certain how they will affect me. If anyone can help—"

"You need Tony Stark to tell you how you feel?" Her tone was icy.

"I need to know that I am not a danger. To you, most of all." He gave her a thin-lipped smile. "Because I would very much like these… feelings to continue. Yet I fear I am becoming unstable, volatile—"

"Human?"

He sank back against the pillows. Wanda slid close, her expression softening.

"That is how it feels. Not always, but most of the time." She trailed an idle finger across his chest. "Some parts are better. For a long time, I did not think so. I was angry, afraid. I thought I had lost everything. But then there was you."

He took her hand in his and she curled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. For a moment he was lost to the feel of her hair against his cheek, the smell of her shampoo. He had not thought… had not dared… but in all his analysis, he had found no better expression of the feeling. There was elegance in its simplicity. And if he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly.

Cupping her chin, he raised her eyes to his. "I love you, Wanda."

She smiled. "I know."

"I do not know how it is possible…"

She lay a finger against his lips. "'Possible' is not important. I do not think it matters. All that matters is that I love you, too."

She kissed him then and he slid down beside her, pulling her into his arms. The sheet fell away, but they simply lay, enjoying the silence, the feel of their bodies entwined. By sunrise she was breathing deeply and he slipped from the bed, taking a moment to stare down at her. She had thought that love would make him stay, but it was the very reason he had to go.

Laying one last kiss on her forehead, he slipped from the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. But when he turned, he found the hallway crowded.

Rogers was waiting for him, Romanoff and Wilson with him.

Rogers folded his arms. "You might as well wake her up. If you're doing this, we're coming with you."


	13. Chapter 13

Stark was waiting for them. As Wanda made her way down the ramp of the quinjet, her shoulders stiffened, her eyes scanning the field. They were meeting in the middle of nowhere, in a wooded clearing miles beyond their base. Of course, Stark had arrived first. He wasn't wearing his armor, but the War Machine was an imposing figure at his side. She saw no one else. The jet that Stark had arrived in appeared to be empty. He wanted them to think they were alone.

Rhodes opened his mask and gave her a thin-lipped smile, but she only glared, staring him down. Instead he looked to the others.

"Anybody else think this is weird?"

Wilson folded his arms. "War Machine's gotta have a war, right?"

"Look, I—"

"Nah, man. I get it. But if shit gets hot, just remember we didn't start it."

Romanoff was scanning the tree line. "Just you two?"

"Figured you'd try to make this a party." Stark nodded in the direction she was looking. "Might have brought myself a little insurance policy. The kind that doesn't miss."

She sagged. "Clint."

"Just doing his job." Stark paced toward them, looking up at Rogers, who hadn't said a word. He gestured to the empty space around them. "But see? No S.H.I.E.L.D. No news cameras."

Steve stared down at him, his jaw set. "Perfect place for a prisoner exchange."

Stark sighed. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Right."

"Okay, then I'm doing _the Vision_ a favor." He squinted up at the quinjet. "Where is the prodigal android anyway?"

Wanda had remained at the foot of the ramp, keeping an eye behind her to where Vision waited inside. When he had woken her, she had known immediately that something was wrong. The others' insistence on coming had given her a moment's hope, but none of them had been able to talk him into turning back.

Now she watched him stand, phasing through the hull and floating down to stand beside her. She could have spent the trip arguing, trying to find some way to make him see, but then she had looked into his eyes. A fight wasn't what he needed, not now. He still thought he was coming back, that Stark would just let him go. She knew better. So she would save her strength for when the real fight started.

Breathing deep, Wanda knotted her fingers through his.

Stark looked Vision up and down, his gaze lingering on their hands. "I hear you've been busy."

"In a manner of speaking."

Stark smirked. "That guy whose arm you broke? Already doing interviews. The press is all over it."

"I am prepared to accept responsibility for my actions."

"Yeah? Might not be that simple." Stark glanced doubtfully at the others, forcing a smile as he gestured back to his jet. "Come on then, Big Red. Let's see what's going on under the hood."

Vision turned to look down at her, his expression pained. They had made their arguments last night. That... and more. But it seemed that didn't matter.

He kissed her then, there in front of everyone, holding her for as long as he could. She could hear Stark chuckling. When Vision finally stepped away, Stark patted him on the back and turned to go, but Steve wasn't through.

"Just that easy?"

Stark glanced behind him. "You want to make this hard?"

"I just want to know he's coming back."

"When it's safe." Stark stepped closer. "When I make sure he's not about to go attacking civilians every time they insult his girlfriend."

Steve's smirk was dangerous. "'Cause that would be on you, right? Can't have the face of super-human registration getting his hands dirty. Well, dirtier."

" _I'm_ trying to get out ahead of this. I thought you of all people would fall in line. That's what you soldier-types _do_ , isn't it?"

"There's a difference and you know it."

Stark turned away, exasperated. "I do know something. I know they'll come after you. The whole national hero thing won't be enough. If you don't register, you won't _be_ Avengers, not anymore. The law's already passed. This isn't a fight you can win. There's nothing for you to hit."

"Not until they send you after us. That's the plan, right?" Steve scowled. "If we don't all stand against this and stand together—"

"You know, I didn't think you were actually _this_ stupid." Stark was pacing again, the words coming faster. "I'm trying to _help_ you. I know what happens next." He turned suddenly, pointing at Wanda. "She showed me."

Steve glanced at her, suddenly uncertain. "It was just a distraction. We're past that now."

"Yeah, all's forgiven. Good for her." Stark shook his head, pointing at Vision. " _He_ might have been Thor's vision, but mine? Not so great."

Steve took a step forward and suddenly Rhodes was at Stark's side. Wanda tensed, watching as Sam and Natasha did the same. Vision stood uncertainly between them, but Steve was the first to break the tension.

"It doesn't matter what you think you—"

Stark whirled on him. "I saw you _die_. You wanna tell me _that_ doesn't matter?" His gaze swept over the rest of them, his wild eyes lingering on Wanda as his voice grew soft. "It was real. And I knew... I could have done something, could have done more." He composed himself, looking up at Steve. "So I am. The best way I know how."

Steve stared down at him, the stiffness draining slowly from his shoulders. "I have your word the Vision won't be harmed?"

"He behaves, so will I."

It wasn't an answer. It wasn't enough. But after a moment, Rogers nodded. Stark turned to go and no one moved to stop him.

Wanda took a step forward, but Natasha lay a hand on her arm. "He'll be back." Her eyes strayed to the trees, watching as Barton jogged out to start the other jet. When he caught sight of Natasha, something passed between them and she tightened her grip. "Even if we have to bring him back ourselves."

Wanda was grateful for that, but Vision was turning away. Shaking off Natasha's grip, she closed the distance between them and threw herself into his arms. He kissed her again, lifting her from the ground.

Somewhere behind them, she heard Steve sigh. "You know there's nothing wrong with him, right?"

It was Stark who answered. "You're basing that on – what? – your extensive experience with artificial intelligence and synthetic tissue growth? I think I'll form my own opinion."

Vision set her down then, looking at her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. She wanted him to say that he would come back for her, wanted him to promise, but she remembered what had happened the last time she had heard those words. Her chest tightened in sudden panic.

He lay a hand over her heart, as though he could feel it fluttering. Once more he kissed her, final and fleeting. Then he turned and followed Stark back to the jet.


	14. Chapter 14

"It is an impressive facility."

"Yeah." Stark kept pace beside him, ushering Vision into his laboratory. "I've got a few backups. You never know when someone's gonna come along and trash one."

"I am sorry about that."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Making a mess is part of the fun."

The words were lightly spoken, but as his eyes scanned the room, Vision was thinking not of his explosive birth, but of more recent actions and the mess that he had made. It hardly seemed like fun. Leaving had been even more difficult than he expected, but Stark had been true to his word. This was not a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. He was not a prisoner. After Stark completed his analysis, he may even be allowed to leave.

Wanda had not been so certain. At least she knew that he had a reason to come back, at least he had had the time to tell her. That much, at least, he had done right.

Stark gestured to a chair and Vision sat. Despite the diagnostic equipment surrounding them, for a time Stark simply stared. There was curiosity in his eyes, an unabashed fascination that seemed to be recording every detail. Vision tilted his head, watching him in return.

"Huh." Eventually Stark pulled up a stool, busying himself with a nearby monitor. "You know, first dates, they never go well."

"You would be the expert. You have certainly been on enough of them."

Stark feigned offense, but he was unable to suppress a grin. "What's that, like a residual memory thing?"

"I do not believe so." Vision inclined his head. "You _do_ have something of a reputation."

"Not even a year old and already reading the tabloids." He tsked. "I'm a happily committed man now, remember?"

"Of course, sir."

He winced at that, snapping his fingers as he turned away. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. initiate body scan." As Vision settled back and let the lights sweep over him, Stark smirked. "See that? No backtalk."

Vision fell silent, watching him work.

"So you and Maximoff, huh?"

"She is... unique."

"Cute, too." He arched a brow. "I'd say it's time we had The Talk, but from what Rhodey tells me, I'm too late."

Vision caught his meaning, but kept his expression carefully still. "We are _talking_ now."

"Huh. A coy robot." Stark shook his head. "Sorry, synthetic humanoid. That _is_ the term, right?"

"It seems... accurate, if not entirely comprehensive."

"Nah. You..." Stark waggled a finger. "You're something special. Unique." He chuckled. "Y'know, you and Maximoff might just be perfect for each other."

The scan winked off and Stark rolled away on his stool to study the results.

"My body is operating at peak efficiency."

"Yeah, got that."

"Perhaps a neural scan would be in order?"

"Why not? We're already off the map here." Stark shrugged, flipping through the readings. Then he paused, shaking his head. "Y'know, it's funny. For a second there, it felt almost like old times."

"I am sorry if my voice causes you distress."

"I'm not distressed. Do I look distressed?" He rolled closer.

"I would like to know more about him, about... J.A.R.V.I.S." Vision met his gaze. "If you will tell me."

"Natural language UI. Kind of an attitude problem. He also kind of saved the world."

"You miss him."

"Who's analyzing who here?" Stark stood, striding to a cabinet. Pulling out a bottle and glass, he poured himself a drink.

"Ultron, I had the opportunity to meet. I know what he was, what he intended me to be. But I would like to believe that that is more than what I am. Perhaps if I were to know more about my creation..."

"Guilt trip? Really?" Stark turned to look at him, a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

"You claim that the name Jarvis is an acronym, but it was also the surname of your family butler."

"If you know all that, why ask me?"

"It is... curious."

"Not really." He shook his head, leaning back against the cabinet. "Jarvis raised me."

"After your parents died."

"Sure." He smirked and took a sip. "After."

"I am sorry for your loss. I have begun to understand what it means to lose family."

"How _is_ Maximoff holding up?"

Vision smiled to himself. "Better."

"Yeah. I'll bet."

"Hey, Stark." Agent Barton stood in the doorway. He was clearly agitated. "We found him."

Slowly, Stark set his glass aside. Vision could sense his surprise, but it lasted only a moment. His expression darkened, his voice growing cold.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah..." Barton hesitated. "But you know we're not the only ones looking."

Stark strode across the room. "Just means we have to get there first."

"And what if _Cap_ gets there first?"

Stark hesitated, then turned back to Vision. "So you really think you understand? You think you know what it's like to lose someone, to have something you know is worth defending?" He was pacing again, shaking his head. "Yeah, my parents died. Someone killed them. Made it look like a car accident. They weren't the first either. And this guy... he's still out there. Steve wants to – what? – pat him on the back? All's forgiven because he's killing the _right_ people now?" He stopped suddenly, looking to Vision. "Tell me that makes sense to you. 'Cause, me? I don't see it."

"No... it does not."

Stark nodded. "Then come help me get this guy."

Vision hesitated. Stark was clearly distraught, but his argument was not without merit. He knew the man they were speaking of. The Winter Soldier's crimes were public knowledge, freshly brought to light with the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the release of their files. Yet every person was entitled to fair judgment. An arrest was the most appropriate course of action.

He stood. "Yes."

"Good." Stark strode to the door. "Wheels up in five. Barton, fill him in."

As they watched Stark go, Barton came to stand beside him. "I think this is about to get a lot bigger than you or me."

"I agree."

Barton glanced around the lab. "So all this is about you and Wanda, huh? That's new."

Vision looked down at him, considering. "I have heard you have a family, that you have experience with..." He hesitated.

"Love? Suppose I do." Barton smirked. "But a girl gets under your skin, most people don't submit themselves for medical testing."

"My emotional state is becoming increasingly unstable. I find myself... restless, distracted. I injured a man... and I would do it again. For her." He stared down at his hands. " I see no resolution. I do not know what to do."

Barton patted him on the back, steering him toward the door. "Well, you could always marry her. That's what I did."


	15. Chapter 15

"He'll call."

Wanda looked up from her phone to find Natasha watching her. Her smile was meant to be encouraging, but Wanda shook her head.

"I do not trust Tony Stark."

"Seems to be going around." Natasha pressed flat against the wall, signaling for Wanda to be quiet as she peered around the next corner. The warehouse was abandoned, but they had received word that Captain America's former partner – the man that he had spent months hunting – had been sighted here. Stark was looking for him, too. That was enough to make Wanda want to find him first.

"You're clear on the plan?"

Wanda nodded. "Steve and Sam will keep him distracted. You will get me close."

"Steve thinks he's starting to remember. He claims the Winter Soldier saved him when they fought in D.C. But don't underestimate what Hydra did to him. I... know what it's like to have someone in your head."

"So do I."

"We get close, it's up to you to see how much of him is really left."

"I understand."

Natasha led the way, holding her gun out ahead of her. Rogers might not think the man would harm them, but Wanda shared Natasha's skepticism. Still, she found herself distracted.

"Has Dr. Banner called?"

Natasha stiffened without turning around. "We missed our window. Not like you. Vizh will be back." She stopped, staring up through a hole in the ceiling. "Maybe sooner than you think."

Wanda followed her gaze. The sky outside was overcast, empty except for the clouds. Then she saw them, circling above the building. Iron Man, War Machine... and Vision.

Natasha touched a finger to her comm. "We've got company."

"I see them." Steve's voice was hushed. "We'll handle it. You keep going. Find Bucky."

As the comm switched off, Natasha sighed. "If Stark's here, we're running out of time. We have to—"

"Split up."

She could see the doubt in Natasha's eyes. "We work as a team. That's the plan."

"I can take care of myself. This is faster."

"And what if you find him? The Winter Soldier, not—"

"I understand the mission." Natasha thought she would go after Vision. She wanted to, more than anything, but she had a job to do. Pulling her gaze from the sky above them, Wanda squared her shoulders. "I can handle this Winter Soldier."

Natasha hesitated, looking to a flight of stairs ahead of them. "I'll go up. You go down." She lifted her gun, stalking ahead. "But you find him, you call for backup."

Wanda nodded. Up would take her closer to the roof, to Vision, so Natasha had sent her down. Wanda couldn't entirely blame her.

As Natasha's footsteps faded away above, Wanda made her descent. She went slowly into the darkened basement, energy dancing ready between her fingers. Reaching out with her mind, she tried to get a sense of the place, find some trace of the others. Natasha had warned her that the Winter Soldier might be able to shield his mind, use special tricks to keep her out, but she had taken down the Avengers. One man would not be a problem. Instead she reached upward, sensing Natasha on the stairs, Stark and Rhodes in the sky above. If she could only touch Vision's mind, maybe she could sense why he was working with Stark. He wouldn't betray them, betray _her_ , not like—

A click echoed in the darkness. She felt the cool metal of a gun barrel pressed to her temple.

"Don't move." The voice was rough, the whisper hoarse. From the corner of her eye, she could just make out the man standing behind her. He was bearded, haggard, but his eyes were clear and cold.

Wanda kept herself carefully still. "Sergeant Barnes."

Her voice made him stiffen. When he answered, the words were in the language of her home. "Who sent you?"

"Steve Rogers. We are here to help you."

That seemed to give him pause. The pressure on her temple lessened. For a moment, he had hesitated. It was all she needed.

Wanda spun, tendrils of light wrapping around the gun to pin it down at his side. He struggled against them, his metal arm whirring, but she held him fast. When he looked up in surprise, she forced a smile.

"I am not going to hurt you." There was no time to explain. The man was dangerous. She needed to do this now. Reaching out, Wanda slipped into his mind.

Memories came flying past her, fractured, broken, their jagged edges piercing. But they had begun knitting themselves together, like a puzzle with some of the pieces missing. She saw darkness and endless cold, the glare of fearful machines, the echo of screams that sounded barely human. But there was beauty here as well. The shadow of a ballerina danced past and turned away, her grace as seemingly out of place as the red hair streaming around her shoulders. She saw Steve, smaller and skinnier, with a smile Wanda had rarely seen. She could almost feel the pieces locking together. If she could only—

"Get out of my head!" Barnes shoved her roughly away, burying his face in his hands. Somehow he'd overcome her hold on him.

"I can help you." She reached out again. "I can show you who you—"

"I said get out!" He whirled on her, one hand clamping around her throat. His human hand. Had it been the other, she would be dead. Was he hesitating?

His eyes were wild, darting this way and that as he leaned close. He was confused, panicked. He didn't want to do this. She felt it. She tried to encourage that thought, to stoke the flame, to give the pieces one more push. But there were spots dancing across her vision.

 _Vision..._

She saw Barnes' eyes go wide and knew that it had worked, that he remembered. But then his hands were torn away, his surprise ripping through her as he was lifted from the ground.

"Vizh, no!"

He floated above her, holding Barnes aloft, staring at him in cold fury. Vision's eyes strayed to her, his expression pained. And then he was gone, flying toward the stairwell and taking Barnes with him.

"No!" Breathless, she raced after them, summoning the energy to propel herself upward. They were still in the warehouse. He hadn't taken Barnes back to Stark. Wanda reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Vision throw him to the ground.

Barnes spun immediately, firing twice into Vision's chest. Wanda ducked as he adjusted his density and sent the bullets ricocheting into the walls. Barnes switched tactics, drawing a knife as he stalked closer, but Vision made himself insubstantial, each slash passing harmlessly through him. Barnes seemed outmatched, but she understood now why the others had told her that he was so dangerous. She could feel his mind working, searching for a weakness. She saw him look to Vision's eyes, to the gem in his forehead, to his uniform. Then his eyes landed on her.

Vision saw it, too. He extended a hand toward Barnes' chest, but Wanda threw herself between them.

"Stop!" She whirled on Barnes. "We are here to help you." Then she turned to Vision. "He's not going to hurt me."

Vision stared down at her, his eyes fixing on her neck. "He did."

"He's confused. And so am I. Why are you working with Stark?"

"Because he asked. This man killed his parents."

"And Tony Stark killed mine."

Vision stepped close, the anger draining from him as he took her hand in his. "I know. And I am sorry. But the circumstances—"

"What circumstances? Stark did not know what his bombs would do? He did not have control? Neither did _he_. I was in his mind. I..." She turned, but Barnes was gone.

Even Vision looked surprised. He moved to go after him, but Wanda caught his arm. "Don't go. Not again."

That was when the others found them. Stark and Rhodes descended through the broken ceiling, as the others clamored down the stairs.

Steve's gaze swept the room. "Maximoff?"

"Barnes is gone. But... I had him. It worked, I know it did. He remembers."

Stark was unimpressed. Opening his mask, he arched a brow at Vision. "So you just let him go?"

"If Wanda was indeed successful—"

"We didn't come here to take him on a trip down memory lane. We came here to arrest him."

Steve scowled. "So that's it? That's what you do now?"

"You know what he did."

"And you know that it _wasn't him_."

"Wasn't it?"

"Well, he's gone now." Given the circumstances, Steve sounded relieved.

"Doesn't mean it's over." Stark turned away, waving a dismissive hand. "Rhodey, Vizh, let's go. He can't have gone far."

Vision made no move to follow. "I will stay."

Stark turned, his eyes narrowing. "You said you'd help."

"And I have. But in light of Wanda's—"

"What you did here? Really _not_ helpful." Stark paced back toward him. "And there are still more tests to run."

"I am satisfied with the results."

"Yeah? I'm not. I saw what you did. Maybe old man Barnes can take that kind of punishment, but what if it was someone else?" He looked to Wanda. "What if it was _her_?"

It was a low blow and Stark knew it. Vision scowled. "I have made my decision."

"And I've made mine." Stark pressed a button inside his suit and Vision went rigid, dropping to his knees.

He looked up at Wanda, his eyes wide, a scream of pain escaping through gritted teeth. Natasha raised her gun. Steve took a step forward.

But Stark held his ground. "Just an inhibitor, shuts down locomotive functions. He doesn't fight it, he'll be fine. After what happened, I wasn't about to—"

Steve took another step toward him. "Shut it off."

Still Vision was staring up at her, his face a rictus of pain, his eyes pleading. Hoping to soothe him, Wanda reached into his mind... and immediately recoiled.

"You are hurting him!"

"Then tell him to stop struggling. I meant what I said. He'll be fine. You can even have him back, _after_ I—"

" _Stop_." Wanda pushed past Steve, rising slowly into the air. She spread her arms, energy blooming from her hands. It crackled along her arms, flaring her coat behind her, infusing her hair until it spread around her in a dark halo.

Stark took a step back. He wasn't the only one. She could see their terror. She could taste it. Only Vision remained below her, the light that swirled around her reflected in his eyes.

She didn't have to ask again.


	16. Chapter 16

He was running internal diagnostics. It had started as a way to pass the time while his body regained locomotive capabilities but, in truth, he was growing restless. Stark claimed to have disabled the inhibitor before leaving them, but its effects took time to dissipate and Vision could not be certain that there had not been further tampering. Captain Rogers shared his concern. He had restricted Vision to the med-lab while their own people ran tests. Of course, they could not be certain of what they were looking for, nor even truly understand what they were seeing. He was, after all, unique. So until he regained control of his limbs, he would have to trust in his own analysis.

It had been Wanda who brought him back. When the others had attempted to move him, they had complained of the weight, but she had cradled him in light, carrying him from that place as he had once carried her. He played the memory over again. She had risen up to defend him, fearsome in her anger, dark and beautiful, an apparition bathed in swirling red light. It was a sight he would not forget.

Staring down the length of his arm, he flexed his fingers. The motion was stiff, slow, yet still a marked improvement. Stark had been correct; had he not struggled, the effects would have been less severe. Yet the memory of his rashness and the thought of being parted from Wanda again had left him no choice. Despite the pain, he was not angry. Stark's actions may have been deceptive, but his desire for precaution was understandably rooted in his experience with Ultron. Vision had gone to him for help, and perhaps Stark had violated that trust, but waking here had done more to ease his doubts than any of the tests they had performed. It had felt like... coming home.

"It is good to see you smile."

He raised his eyes to find Wanda standing in the doorway. She looked tired, but a slow grin was spreading across her face as she watched him.

"I do not believe I am. My fine muscle control is still limited. Speech is somewhat awkward, and I am afraid the more delicate nuances of expression are still—"

"You are smiling. I can see it." She stepped into the room and came to stand beside his bed. Staring down at him, she cupped a hand against his cheek. "I can see _you_."

"Wanda, I am sorry. I should not have left."

"I told you not to trust Tony Stark." Her eyes flared and for a moment he saw a shadow of the fury that had risen up to defend him. But as she looked down at him, her expression softened. Leaning low, she lay a kiss on his forehead.

He longed to wrap his arms around her. Again, his fingers twitched. This time he was able to raise his hand at the wrist, stretching but still falling short.

Sensing his frustration, Wanda squeezed onto the bed and curled against him, laying her hand over his. "We are leaving soon. Steve says you will stay here, that you should take your time in recovering."

"I know. He came to see me." Vision sighed. "But you know there is more to it than that."

She scowled. "What Stark did..."

"Has yet to be seen. I had no knowledge of the inhibitor until it was activated. I do not believe that he would do me harm, or cause harm to those he called friends, but Captain Rogers is correct in his analysis. I am not to be trusted."

"It is not _you_ he doesn't trust."

"But my body? If this form is indeed the whole of what I am, the result is the same. At your side, I would be a liability." He strained again against his invisible bonds before subsiding in defeat. "When Captain Rogers came to see me, I could tell he was in difficulty, that the words made him uncomfortable. He attempted to reassure me, to convince me that this precaution is not personal. I would prefer to come with you, but until the rift between them is repaired, this is the only way to be certain that my mistake does not put the team at risk."

Wanda sighed. "I know that. But that does not mean I like it."

"I fear I would be a poor protector... and one I suspect you do not need." He tried a smile, hoping that she could see it. "Given my current progression, I should be almost completely recovered within thirty-six hours. Perhaps—"

She shook her head. "We leave tonight." Her eyes darted away. There was something she was not telling him. "Things have... changed."

"Stark?"

"No. At least I do not think so." She looked down at his hand, brushing her fingers over his. "Someone has been following us. Not Stark. Not his people."

"The Winter Soldier?"

"Steve does not think so. Neither do I. I _know_ that I was able to help him. And… I _felt_ him. He would not do this."

Vision squeezed her that. _That_ , at least, he could do. "Do what?"

She hesitated. She was trying not to worry him. "Someone shot at us, at Steve, the last time we were out. Twice, this has happened... that he has told us about. They have not succeeded but, whoever it is, they are shooting to kill."

"You are sure it isn't Stark? S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Even as he asked the question, he knew it did not fit.

"Sam caught a glimpse of him, a man with a skull on his mask. He said there was something familiar about him. But whoever he is, we cannot have him shadowing us. Steve wants to draw him out, take the fight to him." She gave his hand another squeeze. "And I am going with him."

"While I remain here."

She smirked. "I can take care of myself, remember?"

"Yes. And yet I still feel as though I have failed you. Captain Rogers took a risk on my behalf, a risk in bringing me here, yet I am unable to stand beside him."

Wanda leaned low, brushing her lips across his. " _I_ will be there. And Sam and Natasha. Who knows? By the time we return, you might be able to kiss me back."

He did, straining up to meet her, fighting against the stiffness of his lips. Pulling away, she smiled down at him, but her perch on the bed was precarious. She nearly toppled backward, but his arm snapped up, bending reflexively at the elbow to keep her from falling.

She gasped, a grin spreading across her face. He, too, was surprised. Even in his incapacitated state, it seemed he was unable to let her come to harm.

Wanda arched a brow. "Thirty-six hours?"

"My estimate failed to take your presence into account."

"So I am helping?" With a sly smile, she slipped a leg across his waist, straddling him.

"It would appear so."

She traced a finger down his chest. "Do you feel that?"

"My ability to experience tactile sensation was not affected. The device merely severed the connection between my muscles and by conscious mind. I am still in the process of resetting my neural network."

"Your arm... that was subconscious?"

"I could not allow you to fall."

She smiled, her hand moving lower. Raising her eyes to his, she asked a wordless question.

"It seems you have a healing touch."

She laughed, bending to kiss him again, but they were no longer alone. Captain Rogers leaned in the doorway, keeping his eyes carefully averted as he cleared his throat.

"Ah, Captain. Wanda was just assisting me."

"I can see that." He smirked, watching as Wanda slipped reluctantly from the bed. "How's it going? Any better?"

Vision flexed his fingers, though without the proper incentive, he could not will his arm to move again. "Better, yes. Though I will need time."

"Take it." Coming closer, Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. He tried a smile, but his eyes strayed to Wanda. "We have to go."

"I have heard. I am sorry that I cannot go with you."

"Just rest. We're going to need you." Steve was purposefully omitting the question of trust, another small kindness. He looked to Wanda. "You ready?"

"Not quite." Pushing past him, she leaned over Vision and kissed him again, caring nothing for their audience. Straightening, she nodded at Steve. " _Now_ , I am ready."

She gave Vision's hand a final squeeze as she turned to go, her fingers lingering. As Rogers turned to follow her, Vision called after him.

"Captain?"

"You know you don't have to ask." Steve turned, giving him a thin-lipped smile. "I'll take care of her."


	17. Chapter 17

The world blurred, losing focus. Wanda stared out the window as the jet descended, seeing nothing of the clouds beyond the glass, taking no comfort in the darkness stretching out around them. Strange, that she had once feared the night. The dark had always reminded her of those days spent beneath the rubble of her collapsed home, where time lost all meaning, where every breath felt like it would bring the weight crashing down on them. It felt like that now. The world blurred again and she wiped a hand across her cheek. There was no point. The tears would always come. Just like the darkness.

But that had been before. The nights were not so bad now, not with Vision beside her, waiting to soothe away the nightmares. Rocking in her seat, she hugged herself. Vision wasn't here. And the others... they sat alone, as lost to their own thoughts as she was. If only she could reach out with her mind, if only she could touch some piece of him, let him know that they were coming back. Some of them, anyway. But concentration failed her. The tears were coming again.

She could see the lights below her, the lights of home. Was it still? What would happen to them now? The questions were too much, too big. She could feel the collapse looming, just as it had all those years ago, the chasm opening beneath her, threatening to swallow her whole. But this time it would swallow all of them.

When they touched down, no one moved. Disembarking would mean it was over, would make it real. Barton slid back in the pilot's seat with a sigh, glancing at Natasha, who cradled a dislocated elbow. She didn't seem to see him, or notice the redness of his eyes. Rhodes sat hunched in the seat across from her, looking strangely small without his armor. Wanda couldn't bring herself to look at Sam... or at the familiar figure sitting beside him. The man's face was a mask of anguish, his knuckles white as he gripped the shield that rested against his knees. He hadn't let it go since he'd picked it up and chased after their attacker, appearing from nowhere to fight beside them. But, even then, it had been too late.

Breathing deep, Wanda stood. They could not stay in the jet forever. And she could feel Vision now. He was near... and happy to have her home. His relief was so out of place that it staggered her.

But then Sam was there, offering her a hand. When she raised her eyes to his, pain ripped through her and she turned her face away, shaking her head. "I can feel everything. Your thoughts. Theirs. I cannot control it." Her breath grew ragged. She needed to focus, needed to block them out. But she was so, so tired.

"Gotcha. Bad enough being in my own head right now."

"Walls." It was their guest who had spoken. Or maybe their prisoner – she wasn't sure. Still he stared down at the shield in his mismatched hands, his eyes distant and unfocused. "Think of walls. Sounds simple. But it works. Sometimes."

She thought of walls – not the crumbling, fragile brick of the home that she had lost, but the walls of this place, of the room where she'd learned not to be afraid. But the image in her mind wasn't made of smooth plaster. There were plates etched into the surface, in soothing colors of red and gold and green, lines that she had traced beneath her fingers as her mind drifted off to sleep. It wasn't a wall that she was seeing, but something stronger, something impenetrable, who would wrap her in his arms and never let her go.

The others were leaving. She could feel them still, but they were muted, distant. The only pain left was her own.

Vision was waiting for them on the landing pad. The sight of him overwhelmed her, her eyes stinging again. Pushing past the others, she ran down the gangway and threw herself into his arms. He crushed her to him so tightly that she imagined he would hold her there forever. If only that were true.

Tilting her chin up to look at him, he wiped a tear from her cheek, relief giving way to concern. His eyes asked a question, but she didn't have the words to tell him.

His confusion grew as he looked to the others. "Agent Barton... Colonel Rhodes... where is Mr. Stark?"

They had been Stark's people, after all. Barton had been "keeping an eye on things," as he put it, communicating with Natasha in an effort to keep things from getting "out of control." It hadn't been enough. The man who called himself "Crossbones" wasn't one of Stark's. No one had seen him coming. Not until it was too late.

It was Rhodes who answered. "Said he needed time. Alone."

The two were close, Wanda knew, but Stark had flown off with barely a word. They had come too late, failed to stop the very thing that Stark had pledged his team to prevent. For all his talk of control, he hadn't been there when it mattered.

Vision could see Rhodes' discomfort. He offered him a thin-lipped smile, but Wanda could feel the tension in his arms as he pulled her closer. "I am glad you are back."

Rhodes stared down at his hands. "Where else would I be?"

Looking to the jet, Vision watched as the last member of their party stepped onto the gangway. There he hesitated, still clutching the shield, his dark-rimmed eyes scanning the building. Even uncertain, his mind was working, his defenses unshakable even in grief.

Vision's jaw clenched, his arm tightening around Wanda's waist. When he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on Barnes.

"Where is Captain Rogers?"


	18. Chapter 18

Even through the television, he could hear the pounding of the rain. It drummed on the umbrellas of those clustered around the gravesite, a somber deluge that forced the mourners to huddle together and the news crews to erect shelters for their equipment. Vision wondered if anyone in the crowd had truly known the man that they had gathered to honor. Most of those who had had that privilege were here beside him, watching the proceedings on television from the relative safety of Barton's farm. The authorities hadn't come for them, not yet, and the events of the past week had drained much of the fervor from the call for registration, but caution was enough to keep them away. It was regrettable that those who grieved the deepest must do so from hiding but, despite the rain, the crowds stretched well beyond the gravestones. Hundreds had gathered to see Captain America laid to rest.

Of course, Steve was not truly there, would not be interred according to common custom. The contents of his body had been deemed too valuable, too dangerous. Vision was not certain that his own body was capable of death, or a commensurate state of expiration, but he wondered if his remains would be treated similarly. He expected they would.

It was strange to be thinking of oneself while watching the funeral of another. Yet death did seem to have that effect. For those left behind, it was a reminder of their own mortality, an opportunity to appreciate the transient beauty of their own existence. Perhaps some would disagree, preferring to fear or ignore what would one day come. He had little fear for himself, but when he thought of the others – of Wanda – the sensation was... troubling. Time, in this moment, seemed so very short.

She was snuggled beside him on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, her head resting on his shoulder. Slipping an arm around her, Vision held her closer. It had been Rogers who first brought Wanda into the Avengers, who had seen the potential for her and her brother to be more than the weapons that Hydra had tried to make of them. He understood that acceptance, knew what it meant. Rogers had extended the same confidence to him. It wasn't lifting Mjolnir that had made him an Avenger, nor even defeating Ultron. True acceptance had come with a handshake and a crooked smile, a pat on the back as Captain America welcomed him to the team. That was the name that had brought so many out into the rain, but here it was Steve Rogers who they remembered, Steve Rogers whose opinion had held so much weight. There was not a person here who didn't find themselves bettered by his influence and today his memory settled over them in a heavy silence.

It was broken by a change in the broadcast, the camera zooming under the awning where the casket waited, centering on the podium beside it. Wanda shifted beside him. They had all known what was coming, though there had been some doubt as to whether he would actually appear.

As they watched, Stark stepped to the microphone. For a time he simply stared, looking unseeing past the cameras, over the heads of the crowd. Then he glanced down at the casket. He would know that it was empty, but for a moment he looked visibly perplexed, as though he had suddenly realized the futility of the proceedings. A nervous chuckle escaped him.

"God, he's drunk!" Barton pushed to his feet. "You see that? He's _drunk_."

"He's coping." Natasha was seated cross-legged on the floor, Barton's daughter in her lap.

"Yeah, well maybe now's not the time." Clint folded his arms, but then his wife, Laura, was there, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. It seemed to calm him.

Vision found himself watching them as Stark began his eulogy. It was tradition to recount the life of the fallen, to give some comfort to those who had gathered to listen, but those assembled here seemed to find little solace in his words. Barton still scowled and Wilson fumed quietly. Romanoff distractedly braided the child's hair, watching the screen from the corner of her eye. Occasionally, she would glance behind her, toward the door. Barnes stood beside it, leaning against the wall, his arms folded. The man had been closer to Steve than any of them, but he had barely spoken all day. His only reaction came when Stark called Steve "brother." Without a word, Barnes slipped outside, slamming the door behind him.

The term was inaccurate, but Vision understood the intended meaning. A brother was more than a friend, more than a teammate. Emotional bonds were difficult to quantify but, when one term fell short, there were others that might be used. He looked again to the Bartons.

Natasha had gotten up and gone after Barnes. The child she'd left behind was looking at _him_ now, he realized, staring up at him in wide-eyed fascination. Vision tried a smile.

The girl grinned. Pushing awkwardly to her feet, she came closer, blinking up at him before jabbing an experimental finger at his knee. There was no fear in her eyes, only a curious sort of daring. As she watched, Vision shifted the molecules of his clothing, making them swirl and change colors beneath her hand. The child giggled.

"Come on, you." Barton came and scooped her up. "Let's go check on your baby brother."

As Clint carried the girl away, Vision turned to find Wanda watching him.

"You are good with her."

"She... was not afraid."

Wanda snuggled closer. "Of course not."

He glanced again at the television. Stark had stopped speaking and was staring into the camera, sweat beading on his brow. After a tense moment, he excused himself, his voice breaking as he covered his face and left the podium.

Vision had seen his hesitation, his anger, his doubt. He had let it consume him, let it distract him, let it drive a wedge between him and a man who had been as good as family. And now it was too late.

He looked down at Wanda. Taking her hand, he stood. "Come with me."

She followed him out into the growing dark. The storm would be coming soon, but for now the farm was quiet, still. Of Romanoff and Barnes there was no sign.

Stepping to the edge of the porch, Wanda put her hands on the railing and breathed deep. Vision slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her. For a time, they simply stood, enjoying the silence.

"It is peaceful here." She sighed, leaning back against him. "It is... strange."

"I imagine it would be for someone who has spent their entire life fighting."

"I sometimes forget that I had a home once. I barely remember what it was like." She shook her head, gesturing around them. "But it doesn't matter now. This... is not for me."

"It could be."

Looking back at him, she smirked. "Oh? Do you see me chopping wood? Driving a tractor?"

"Not exactly." Taking her hand, he brought it to his temple, smiling in invitation.

It was not fear that he wanted to show her, not doubt, not memory. Imagination was a complex faculty, but he had been practicing, learning how to concoct fictions in his mind. At first it had been only an experiment, but it proved a pleasurable one. One scenario in particular had stayed with him, the details solidifying as he had turned it over and over again in his mind. He had not thought to share it, out of guilt perhaps, or fear. But he guided her toward it now, all too aware of the nervous fluttering in his chest.

Her smile was immediate, a laugh bursting from her lips. She saw the quiet suburban street with its manicured lawns and friendly neighbors, the comfortable two-story home rising before them as he carried her across the threshold. Books lined the walls and music played softly. There was no fighting here, no war, no death. Only them... only home.

Slowly, Wanda pulled her hand away, studying his face. "And where is this place?"

"Nowhere. Anywhere. Wherever you would like." He smiled down at her. "I hear interesting things about New Jersey."

"Really?" She arched a dubious brow, a slow grin spreading across her face.

Vision took her hands in his. "You think you cannot have peace. But you forget that that is why I was created, before that ideal became corrupted by Ultron. Perhaps I cannot bring peace to the world, perhaps that effort is a futile one. But I would be content with bringing peace to you. I-if… that is what you want"

"Stuttering?" She pursed her lips. "That is very human of you."

"I do feel very human. I have made mistakes, reacted rashly. That is not how I was programmed, not how a… machine should behave. I have struggled to rationalize what I feel, but the answer is, in fact, a simple one. I behave like a human because a human is what I am. _You_ have made me realize this. You, Wanda, have made me a man."

She squeezed his hand, waiting for him to continue.

"Humanity is struggle. I see that. And I see how fleeting it is, how beautiful. I see the bonds formed between teammates, between friends… and the words we use to define them. You are not simply a teammate and you are clearly more than a friend. I fear any attempt to explain what I feel would fall short, but I no longer wish to wait, or doubt, or hide."

Slowly, he sank to his knees. Wanda's eyes widened, her lips parting as realization dawned. Vision moved her hand to his forehead, his eyes locking to hers as he fixed the question in his mind.

"Look again."

The feel of her flooded through him, disbelief giving way to joy. "Yes." She was in his arms then, her laughter warm against his cheek, her answer whispered in his ear. "Yes, I will be your wife."


	19. Chapter 19

"White is not my color." Wanda stared at her reflection, taking an experimental turn before the mirror.

"Don't worry, no one's taking away your Hot Topic card." Natasha came to stand behind her, her reflection smiling. "You look good."

"You do." Laura Barton was at her other side. The dress was hers, a light sundress that bared Wanda's shoulders and swirled prettily when she moved. Laura had been kind enough to let her borrow it, though Wanda had accessorized it herself, bangles clanking at her wrists as she swept her hair back from her face. Natasha had been trying to style it for her, but she liked it best when it hung free around her shoulders.

They were still on the farm, in one of the upstairs bedrooms. So much was still uncertain – if they would be able to return home, if they would be hunted – but about _this_ she had no doubts. When she and Vizh had made their announcement, the others had been surprised… and happy. She couldn't remember the last time they had had cause to celebrate and she'd realized that this feeling was something she wanted to share. Besides, their days might well be numbered. There had been no reason to wait.

Stepping to the window, she looked down over the yard. Clint and Sam had built a wooden archway, twining it with the same pale streamers that looped along the porch and fences. Chairs had been set to either side of a short aisle and the children played there, throwing confetti at each other by the fistful. Laura stood beside her, smiling as Clint separated them.

Wanda felt her own lips twitch as she spotted Vision walking with Thor. The Thunder God's arrival had been a surprise. He had come too late for Steve's funeral – alluding to growing dangers off-world – but when he had learned that there was to be a wedding, he had lifted Wanda in a rib-crushing hug. She remembered his smile as he set her down, the way he had leaned close to tell her that Steve would have been pleased. What's more, since he was a sovereign prince of Asgard and technically a god, he had insisted on officiating.

As she watched, he slung an arm around Vision's shoulders, offering him a drink from his flask, which Vizh politely declined. Sam and Clint joined them and, though Wanda couldn't hear their words, they seemed to be debating her husband-to-be's clothing choices. He went through several possibilities, the molecules of his body shifting and reforming as the others argued and offered suggestions. All of them were smiling, laughing, and Wanda couldn't help but smile with them.

Laura took her arm and pulled her away from the window. "Come on. We're not done with you yet, either."

She sat Wanda on the bed and Natasha crouched in front of her with a makeup bag.

"I can do it myself."

Natasha ignored her and busied herself with her tools. "Mm hm."

"Stop squirming. You have to let us help. It's tradition." Laura folded her arms, looking almost threatening despite her grin.

"I am a genetically enhanced former criminal marrying a man with a synthetic body."

"Even more reason to do this right." Laura stepped to the closet and returned with a box, opening it to reveal the veil nestled inside.

Wanda shook her head. "I can't."

"You _will_. I insist."

A wild laugh escaped her. Wanda's own mother was no more than a memory. She had never had friends. The sheer _normalness_ of the moment seemed suddenly ludicrous… and overwhelming.

"Don't you dare cry. I'm not starting over." Natasha smirked, but gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It's just… I… thank you."

"Don't thank them yet." Clint leaned in the doorway, watching them. "Saw Nat kill a guy with a tube of lipstick once."

Natasha kept working, undisturbed. "He wasn't dead."

When he spotted the veil in Laura's hands, Clint crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget about the rest of the world.

"Where are the kids?"

"Left them with Bucky." He shrugged, feigning a wince as Laura punched him in the arm. "What? It'll be good for him." Then he kissed her on the forehead and turned to Wanda. "You don't look half bad, kid."

Rolling her eyes, Natasha pulled her to her feet and led her to the mirror to study her handiwork. The effect was subtle, natural. When Laura settled the veil on her head, Wanda barely recognized the woman looking back at her.

Behind her, she saw Clint's smile falter. "Your brother… he'd be real happy."

"He always liked you."

"Yeah, right."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. "He did. And you… you are the one who taught me what it means to be an Avenger. I think… if he cannot be here, he would want you to be the one to walk with me."

Clint gaped, stunned to silence. Laura elbowed him.

"Sounds like an awful lot of responsibility. You sure I'm your guy?" Despite the joke, she could see the emotion in his eyes – surprise, sorrow for her brother, and a fierce sort of pride.

Wanda nodded. "I am."

"Well, okay then."

"Glad you all for that sorted out." They were interrupted by Sam, who was poking his head round the door. When he caught sight of Wanda, he let out a low whistle. "Looking good, Maximoff."

"Thanks, Sam."

"They're ready for you. And you might wanna hurry. Thor's explaining Asgardian bedding customs." He shrugged. "Tried to tell him y'all don't need any help, always sneaking around, making out in the middle of fights while the rest of us are getting our asses kicked."

Crossing the room, Wanda pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We are coming."

Natasha followed Sam out and, after a last embrace with Clint, Laura went with them. Once they were alone, Clint offered Wanda his arm and led her slowly down the stairs. She thought again of Pietro, wondering if he too would have taken his time, if he would have stalled, in no hurry to give his sister away. The thought of him trying made her smile.

When they reached the front door, Clint looked down at her. "You step out that door, you're married to a robot."

She laughed. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Outside the sun was just beginning to set, painting the sky in the first faint shades of red and gold and purple. The timing had been her idea. It had been in darkness that they had found each other, restless nights that had brought them together. For them, sunset wasn't an end, but a beginning.

Vision stood beneath the archway with Thor, watching her approach. But she couldn't wait. Wanda reached out, finding welcome in the familiar comfort of his mind, letting his contentment wash over her. Normally, she found his stillness calming, but today there was an excited fluttering, a nervousness that made her smile.

"Why don't you save the kinky psychic stuff for the honeymoon, huh?" Clint smirked, watching the energy flow between them. But they'd reached the end of the aisle. Dropping her arm, he pulled her into a tight hug and turned to shake Vision's hand. "Hope you know how lucky you are."

"I have an idea." Vision inclined his head gratefully, watching as Clint went to sit beside his family.

Wanda stared up at him. He'd selected a variation on a traditional tuxedo, complete with a vest and cummerbund in his accustomed colors. Well, almost traditional…

"You kept the cape."

He smiled. "It's a good cape."

Beside him, Thor nodded approvingly. Then he clapped Vision on the back and raised his hands to begin the proceedings. "We have assembled here today, my friends, to bear witness to the forging of a new union…"

Wanda tried to listen, but his words flowed past her, a swelling undercurrent to the pulsing of Vision's mind. When he smiled down at her, even that faded away, lost beneath the simple pressure of his hand on hers. They had not written vows. Instead his thoughts washed over her, images of what had been and what might be, depths of contentment that went beyond words. The silent exchange wasn't lost on their audience. Wanda could feel them as well, like an enveloping warmth at the back of her mind. In this moment, she could give them something more than fear, more than regret. She opened herself to it, reaching beyond herself, letting the feeling flow through her.

Vision's grip on her hand tightened. He was her anchor, her refuge… her family.

Her _husband_.

Thor had raised his hands again, pronouncing them one flesh, one mind, one heart. As Vision pulled her to him and kissed her, the others crowded around, offering their congratulations. But Vision's arm remained locked around her waist. Glancing down at her, he smiled. Wanda had just enough time to grab hold before he swung her into his arms and blasted up into the night.


End file.
